


Quicksilver, Gold

by Naruto



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kuroo and Tsukishima are idiot princes from rival countries, M/M, Magic, Politics, Princes, Romance, Slash, Slow Build, Slow Burn, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-06 08:40:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5410277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naruto/pseuds/Naruto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“All Solian men are scum. Your paltry letters begging for an alliance won’t erase our long-standing history of feuds.” Each of Kei’s golden eyes housed a bottomless, ice-barbed ravine, itching for a body to impale. Preferably this impertinent man. Hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at his sides, they trembled slightly, trying to contain the slow pressurization of the white-hot anger that was corroding away the thin cord of restraint Kei had left.</p><p>“Why? Still bitter about having your dear brother, Akiteru, killed in the Nocte-Sol war?” Kuroo pushed himself off the lounger with a sturdy arm — his movements purposeful, predatory. Walking to stand face to face with the younger prince, Kuroo's words were calm and slow, but they rang with the snarling of a beast. “Grow up. It’s been four years.”</p><p>-</p><p>OR AU where Tsukki can finally be a literal royal ass and Kuroo can have anyone's ass because they're both insufferable princes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg hello ouo!!! This fic idea has been niggling in my mind for the longest time so I decided to write a little short prologue to test the waters!
> 
> HEREDITARY MONGOLIAN SPOTS MADE THIS FIC POSSIBLE.
> 
> This is my very first attempt at writing fic so please excuse the amateur mistakes made! also trust me when I say I regret snagging the pen name, 'Naruto'. I apologize if there are some glaring grammatical errors littered around, I'll try to fix all of them asap

_So I walked into the haze_

_And a million dirty ways_

_Now I see you lying there_

_Like a lie low losing air, air_

_Spanish Sahara by Foals_

 

**\- CHAPTER 1: PROLOGUE -**

Kei was the product of a sacrilegious tryst between the Queen and the King’s brother. He could have been easily passed off as the golden heir’s blood brother, and that was exactly what the Queen had intended. It had helped that Kei had an uncanny, striking resemblance to Akiteru—soft, flaxen tufts of hair and honey-coloured eyes, two prominent features that dominated the Tsukishima royal bloodline for centuries.

However, he was ironically blessed with a birthmark inherited from his biological father, Tsukishima Haruhisa. A blue hallmark traced on his right inner-thigh.

The tell-tale sign of a bastard child.

King Natsuki loved his wife dearly, but with such dangerous rage coursing through his body, he couldn't find it in himself to exercise sympathy. The very limits of his patience were being tested, a threadbare wire threatening to snap at any second.

He shouldn't and didn't deserve this.

"You want me to accept _that_ as my own son?" Natsuki's voice crackled, words spat out in vehemence, dripping venom and flashing daggers, "I refuse."

In the country of Nocte, not one person of noble birth welcomes the abomination of bastardy. But pleas coupled with heaving sobs from a beloved, dying wife were painfully hard to ignore.

With Kei cradled under her bosom, of gingerly peached tint of skin, innocently searching around the room and drinking in the myriad of colours assailing his eyes, it dawned on Queen Fuyu that she was dying, fast. She desperately clutched onto the last few minutes of consciousness, unwilling to depart until her request was heard, _agreed._

“Please, Natsuki, I—I know, it was wrong of me to even think of hiding it from you and I will soon be punished in hell for my unforgivable act…" Her voice trembled, so fragile, as though she was to break apart. "But this child did no wrong… just _please_.” Summoning up every iota of her strength, Fuyu raised her hand to caress Kei’s plump, rubicund cheeks. The reality that this was the last time she was ever going to be able to touch her own son twisted agonizingly in her heart.

Natsuki stared silently at her for several moments, as if judging the sincerity of her request. Fuyu met his gaze glassy-eyed but did not break away, trying to tell him with her eyes, that this was what she wanted, what she _needed,_ before she can accept her death.

Her final, selfish request.

It was Natsuki who looked away first. It was painful, terribly so. Here was the woman who was the love of his life, and a bastard child he spent nine whole months praying to the gods for his smooth delivery to the world.

And it soul-crushing to see Fuyu, _his_ Fuyu, the girl he grew enraptured with when he was just ten, and the woman he could finally call his wife when he was eighteen, die right before his eyes because she believed giving birth to his brother’s child was worth giving up her life for. What drove the knife of betrayal even deeper into his heart was that it was unmistakable that Fuyu had genuinely loved Haruhisa, that child nestled protectively in her embrace was no fluke from a drunken night’s copulation.

In a single night, he learnt that you could be the most upright ruler, the most devoted husband and the most amiable brother, but still provoke unwarranted betrayal from not just one person, but two who mattered most to him.

Lover and Brother.

All he had now, was a child not even of his flesh. It was highly unusual to see a new-born child not even utter a single shrill of cry following moments after birth, but there sat the boy, hushed and unmoving except for the steady rise and fall of his naked chest.

Maybe, Natsuki thought, the child instinctively knew that he was dangling precariously over the high ledge in a situation, that if did not go well—might even end in his untimely death.

If only he could take a dagger, slowly carve away every single surface that dastardly birthmark tainted and forget about everything.

Natsuki took a deep, rattling breath as he steeled himself for the answer he was going to receive to what he was about to ask.

“If… at all, Fuyu, did you ever love me?”

Fuyu smiled, and in that moment, Natsuki felt that she had never aged. She was still that same poised, beautiful lady on the fresh cusp of adulthood, dancing fluidly with him, matching him equally, step by step, beat by beat, as she effortlessly mesmerized everyone on the dance floor with her cornflower blue orbs filled with an effervescent light as stunning as her sunshine smile.

Natsuki closed his eyes, he forced back the tears threatening to surge forth and nodded his assent. Then, he finally beckoned for Mágian Keishin Ukai to step forward from the shadows.

A sacrosanct rule to be broken.

Tsukishima Kei greeted the world with a shattering wail.

 

* * *

 

_Named Kei for ‘Firefly’,_

_Deviating from the four seasons_

_In hopes that his existence was like a firefly’s flame_

_Transient and ephemeral_

**_Death_ **

_As quickly as life came._

 

* * *

 

Donning traditional royal garb, regal white trimmed with gold lacings, Mágian Ukai stood over multitudes of commoners and nobles alike, the air pulsating with unbridled anticipation.

Years of heralding and fondness for the job still hasn't blossomed. Ukai suspected it never will.

Ukai readjusted the stuffy cloak he was wearing, which by every second, seemed to be shrinking in size and constricting his throat even further. How can something made from _silk_ be this scratchy?

He heaved a sigh. Mandatory formal garments were always bordering on gaudy and proved to be nothing but an absolute hassle to dress in, he could just imagine how long it would take for him to get out of all these pomp once everything ended.  

Natsuki stood next to him, accompanied by the usual entourage of his most trusted and competent guards. There was still a slight tremble in his movements and his ashen-white face was a far cry from the usual rosy pallor that dusted his skin. He was always the first to berate Ukai for his ‘less than decorous’ behaviour, but looking at him now, Ukai mused that Natsuki probably wouldn’t even care if he was impaled by a spear—he’d possibly even welcome it. 

But Ukai knew there were no words or consolations he could offer to assuage Natsuki’s inner turmoil. He honestly commended Natsuki to even possess the sheer mettle to carry this act through.

Better to get this over and done with, as soon as possible.

“Fellow citizens of Nocte, it is with our deepest sorrow that we announce the death of our country’s beloved Queen. The esteemed Queen Fuyu, passed away last night after an excruciating labour that took her life.”

An outcry.

 _“Queen Fuyu is dead,”_ a lone voice carried through the winds, tone laced with utter disbelief. 

Before Ukai could continue, he heard the phrase repeated again, echoed in a different voice, and then another. It reverberated over the excessive crowd, a dark and heaving mass huddled together, eager hopes evaporated to be replaced by profound lament.

Soon, the courtyard was a sea of bowed heads; whispers of voices died down and silence took reign. One by one, people started dropping to their knees.

Ukai continued, “She will be remembered for her unrivalled beauty, elegance, spirit, admirable aptitude for the academics, seraphic smile, and doubtlessly, her charm.”

“In remembrance, the Nocte Bell shall toll seven times.”

Right on cue, the death knell struck. By the time the seventh toll pierced through the heavy stillness, the amalgamation of echoing peals hung over the country like a dark wraith.

People started rising from their positions, most men were stony-faced but women were more liberal in expressing their grief openly. It was obvious that Queen Fuyu was dearly loved by her people.

Really, announcements were bothersome, but heralding royal deaths were the worst. Ukai chanced a glance at Natsuki for permission to continue and Natsuki gave him a subtle nod.  

Ukai took a deep breath and started, “However, from death comes life.”

The booming deep voice of his carried through crystal-clear, a thrill of enthusiasm drove into the crowd like a sledgehammer and the solemn air around them had transformed into a simmering hum of wild excitement once again.

Beside him, Natsuki shook slightly, with regret or with eagerness, though Ukai highly doubted it was the latter—regardless, it was too late to back out now.

“It is with great honour and blessing that our country welcomes Tsukishima Kei. A future king, the second born of King Natsuki and our late Queen Fuyu,” Ukai announced with great fanfare.

“May he be chosen by the next destined Mágian when the time comes, and one day reign over us with excellence!”

 

* * *

 

Ever since Kei was old enough to begin stringing coherent sentences together, he began to develop an acerbic wit unlike any other, biting into the hearts of even the pluckiest of men. But despite being unforgivingly rapier-tongued, there was a delicate tenderness to him that only surfaced when he was with his brother, Akiteru.

Kei’s eyes would light up in delight and the young boy would immediately drop everything he was doing and rush over his brother’s side. Naturally taciturn, he was often seen to be perfectly content just listening to Akiteru recount his latest escapade, such as how utterly vicious Ukai was during his sword training that day, or how tedious it was to sit through Ikkei’s lecture on military tactics.

Whatever the topic was, Kei would always hang onto every single word Akiteru had to say with rapt attention while interjecting with small smatterings of inputs of his own every now and then. 

It was during moments like these that palace servants and guards were reminded that Kei was in fact, still just an innocent child, even if his usual demeanour to everyone else left a lot to be desired.

Clearly, Kei’s adoration for Akiteru was not one-sided. The brothers were as thick as thieves, and many of them likened their relationship to Natsuki and Haruhisa in their younger days.

The older of them was positively smitten with his brother, always letting him have his way (and then apologizing later for his brother’s conduct). Kei knew that he had Akiteru wrapped around his tiny, little finger and he used it to his every advantage.

As such, he often solicited Akiteru’s help to help him skip afternoon lessons, Ikkei’s lessons, because if there was someone who disliked that old prune more than Akiteru, it was Kei.

The younger one would then beg Akiteru to sneak him out into the nearby woods where they would then engage in paltry scuffles and return tussled and dirt-caked. Often, if not always, it followed with Ikkei catching both of them trying to slip under the radar by taking winding routes in the palace.

Veteran soldiers would tell you that no one can escape the wrath of the Old General _._

Ikkei’s dressing-down usually ended with young Kei in tears, pleading Ikkei to not rebuke Akiteru because ‘Akki is innocent and it’s all my fault’ while Akiteru would bow profusely as he pleads Ikkei to let off his younger brother, saying that as the older of them, he should have known better.

They both always wound up receiving the brunt of punishment anyway.

Although the blonde-haired bombshells never failed to concoct insane, brilliant (in their own words) plans and bring vibrancy to the otherwise suffocating palace twined in politics and austerity, it didn’t escape the notice of people around them that King Natsuki was not… very taken to the younger Tsukishima.

The rumours started due to festive occasions where royal banquets will be held. Nobles found always embraced this opportunity to congregate and flaunt their latest garbs. But more importantly, it was the perfect chance to indulge themselves in the latest piece of gossip much like a pack of starving hyenas offered a delectable morsel of meat.

Most rumours were inane and unfounded, such as how Ukai was so filthy, he digs his ears with his finger in public—Ukai presenting as a Mágian was never met with much love from the upper class—or how Nocte’s golden prince, precious Akiteru was seen to be secretly rendezvousing with a mysterious foreigner believed to be his forbidden paramour. But it worked to serve as a form of entertainment for people living in times of relative peace, except for the occasional border skirmish with the Sols.

During these happenings, King Natsuki was observed to adopt a cavalier attitude towards Kei, it even grew to the point where it became painfully apparent that the boy was clamouring for his attention and failing.

Kei’s conversation starters were, more often than not, choked by a freezing wall of aloofness.

A noncommittal grunt and a nod seemed to be Natsuki’s only repertoire of social skills when interacting with his younger son. Over the years, as Kei matured, the child realized it was futile to try and coax something more than monosyllabic answers out from his father and chose to settle for the companionship of his brother instead.

This was especially bizarre considering how tender Natsuki was to his older son in comparison. Many simply attributed this blatant difference in treatment to the fact that Natsuki was still struggling to come to terms with the fact that Kei’s birth brought along his lover’s death.

Despite that, it was King’s brother, Prince Haruhisa, who adored Kei to pieces. It was clear to anyone that Haruhisa sincerely treated Kei as his own, lavishing him with gifts and much to the mortification of Kei, extremely generous with his affection.

Haruhisa was still single despite fast approaching middle-age, and whenever meddlesome Lords and Ladies tried to offer up their own daughters’ hand in marriage, they were always met with a sheepish grin and a candid rejection.  
  
A few audacious Ladies would always jokingly suggest that Haruhisa should convince Natsuki to let him adopt Kei. They never noticed how a dark expression would shutter across King Natsuki’s face, or how Prince Haruhisa would start sweating slightly and mopping his brow.

_An unspoken agreement._

 

* * *

 

It has been three whole months since Kei saw Akiteru, the longest he has ever gone without his brother’s company, and despite him trying to rein in his obvious excitement, it proved to be quite in vain because his good mood practically oozed out from every fiber of his being. He nearly gave Tadashi a heart attack today because he forgot that _Tsukishima Kei does not normally smile._

_But Akki was coming back tomorrow!_

That pesky border reconnaissance mission Akiteru was assigned to had dragged on for a month more than necessary. His father, Ikkei and Ukai had settled on an agreement that Kei was only to be allowed to participate in military deployments after he turns fifteen.

As a result, he had to waste his life away in this godforsaken palace, and under his father’s urgings—Kei quotes verbatim, ‘strengthen relations with noble families.’ This consisted of attending morning tea ceremonies, afternoon gossips with blabbermouth Ladies, and evening tête-à-têtes with simpering girls. He only looked forward to his sessions with Miss Shimizu, it never felt romantic, but the quiet reprieve she gave him was very much appreciated.

Each session frayed Kei’s nerves more and more because every one of those people he had met was living proof that humans can live perfectly fine without their brains intact.

What was worth celebrating though, was that his father had slowly grown to become much more proactive in conversing with him over the past few months Akiteru was deployed. Although their relationship was only superficial at best and rocky at worst, Kei was sure that given enough time, their bond would deepen.

Kei laid down supine on the grass and shifted a bit to position himself comfortably, his knee-down submerged in the lake. Idly kicking his feet in the cooling water, he mentally ran through all the things he was going to tell Akiteru about.

The gibbous moon was in its full splendour, casting the lake in a romantic glow. He and Akiteru chanced upon this area during their adventures (truancy) in the woods a few years ago, where they had forgotten the path they had taken and ended up exploring late into the night until wheezing, hysterical guards found them.

It was the most enthralling place Kei had ever laid his eyes upon and it had been a favourite place for the two brothers to escape from the bustle of royal life. The grandeur of the palace could never measure up to this beauty.

The visage of the lake was veneer-clear and serene, flanked by an avenue of viridian trees. In the night, it was made all the more ethereal when graced by cascades of moonlight, a place of eldritch beauty all of its own.

It was their special place. Kei liked it that way and hoped it stayed that way.

Kei was beginning to unwind when he heard a snap of branch coming from his left side. If there was one lesson to be learnt from being thrown defenceless and unarmed into wilderness all on his own because of Ukai’s _wonderful_ idea, it was that even the slightest pip of sound could be life-threatening.

His senses sharpened, and he braced himself to stand up—only to be tackled down immediately.

“Bloodthirsty aren’t you, Kei?”

Kei scrambled to look up into the face of his attacker, and soon he began to smile uncontrollably. The grin became wider, became a laugh, became a convulsion of irrepressible mirth.

Twinkling brown eyes stared down at Kei, within was ignited with a playfulness that has always been innate. Golden haired, strong jawed, an infuriatingly handsome mug which Kei truly believed no one could ever muster up the will to hate.

It was Akiteru.

Rumbles of laughter erupted from both brothers, lasting a long while until both of them were dangerously out of their breaths. Akiteru flopped down beside Kei, adopting the same posture Kei was in before he charged him.

“Surprised?” Seeing the jubilant expression on Kei’s face, Akiteru gave a soft laugh and bit his lip, stilling the shaking, “We rode out slightly earlier than usual, it taxed our horses quite a bit, but,” Akiteru gave Kei’s nose a slight pinch, “you don’t have any complaints, do you?”

Kei smiled. “None at all.” Seeing his older brother after three months awakened a bubbling of warmth and tenderness in his heart. Although Akiteru looked almost no different, the slight stubble and grime caked beneath his nails told him that Akiteru was on his way to become a respected man.

“So, dear brother, how was your palace confinement?” asked Akiteru.

Kei rolled his eyes. “Given the choice between that and being thrown into the wilds by Ukai, I’d choose the latter any day.”

Akiteru gave a ghost of laugh, “Surely it wasn’t that bad.”

Toying a few strands of grass under his fingers, Kei grinned mischievously and started plucking out some of them. He flung them on Akiteru’s face. “We should switch places next time then.”

A cold draft blew over and Kei shuddered, rubbing his bare arms for warmth. It was starting to get cold out here. Glancing around, his eyes were inexplicably drawn to the small dancing lights above the water a little ways down the lake. Soft, almost illusory, yellowish-orange spheres that winked on and off, almost teasing. Fireflies.

“But enough about that, how was your trip?” Kei asked.

Better than I expected. Though, applying all the knowledge old man Ikkei taught me wasn’t as simple as I thought it would be; taking stock of inventory, relaying instructions, and so on.” Sitting up, Akiteru started unbuckling the straps of his riding boots.

Kei mirrored his actions. “Speaking of Ikkei, he actually praised me a while ago. An honest, heartfelt praise. I sincerely believed that an apocalypse was about to commence when I first heard him.”

Akiteru chuckled and kicked the muck-stained boots aside, wiggling his toes. “Ikkei’s not that bad, he’s actually just a big old softie.”

Flat incomprehension was Kei’s reaction. He blanched and stuck out his tongue in disgust. “Ikkei and softie do not go together.”

A calloused hand, much rougher than Kei had remembered, reached out to tousle Kei’s hair. “You’ll see. So, Kei, your thirteenth birthday is coming up in a few days, any wishes or presents in mind?”

Akiteru raised his hand up in a flourish and fashioned it into an oath, with a mock-serious expression, he said, “As your dear brother, it shall be my obligation and honourable sacrifice to procure the best and most fitting gift for my spoilt little brother.”

Kei scrunched up his nose and kicked Akiteru savagely in the shin. “Stop that!”

Howling in pain, Akiteru raised his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright! I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Kei started narrowing his eyes in suspicion when he saw Akiteru bracing himself up, prepared to sprint, “Princess!”

Hollering, Akiteru took off with Kei hot on his heels, murderous eyes slitted in vengeance, but still shone in playful endearment. 

...Though if there was one thing Kei wished for, it was that his brother would remain by his side, always.

 

* * *

 

_It would be around a year later when the bell is struck the same number of times as Kei’s age—fourteen times._

_He would be close to fifteen when the bell pealed seven times more to proclaim another death._

 

* * *

 

Whispered promises, sultry underlined with unadulterated prurience. Fleeting touches were exchanged, explorative yet full of intent. Velvet red sheets shifted as legs parted. Hands daringly slid up a creamy thigh, eagerly rewarded with a dreamy gasp of pleasure. Lit braziers were the only source of luminescence in the dark chambers, casting sinuous shadows on the walls, flecked red and gold.

The door slammed open, “Kuroo! We've just received news that—" A pause and an embarrassed murmur, _have the sense to lock the door next time, you idiot._

With a shriek, the woman wrenched the blankets up her chest in a poor, flustered attempt at modesty. Kuroo held up his hand for silence. He gave her a quick peck on the lips, threaded his fingers in her voluminous, dark hair and whispered in her ear, “Sorry about Lev, he’s new and a bit rough around the edges. We’ll continue this next time, yeah?”

“You promise?” She pouted, wandering hands settling to massage his biceps.

Kuroo took her delicate hands with his own and placed it over his nude chest. He flashed her a handsome grin, devious and playful, coated with a heavy note of sensuality, “I never lie.”

And with that, the woman quickly gathered up her discarded clothing and chanced Lev with a haughty glare before turning on her heels, closing the door shut behind her. Lev considered the entire scene with every appearance of revulsion.

Kuroo winked, “Hey, don’t blame me if you can’t seduce any women to bed.” 

Lev shot Kuroo a blank stare in response, looking duly unimpressed. Kuroo shrugged and stretched out lazily, popping a few stiff joints, “So let me guess, another one of our messengers sent to Nocte has been butchered?"

An affirmative nod.

"And the body, or I should say, the decapitated head was kindly delivered back again?”

"Yes."

“Shame. I had rather high hopes this time. Tsukishima Kei is a rather feisty one, isn't he? Akiteru was so much more agreeable.”

“Pardon me if I say this, but are you not going to cease this pointless charade?” Haiba continued, brows locked in disapproval, “You know that watching you send innocent men to their deaths isn’t the reason why I decided to quit working in the mercenary line to serve under you.”

Pushing himself up from the bed, Kuroo’s clucked his tongue and pursed his lips, a thin line of displeasure. “I know. That’s why I’m ordering you to call in Kenma. Pronto.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again!!! thank you so much for actually reading up until the end of it.
> 
> A quick explanation if you didn't get the four seasons bit: Haru, Natsu, Aki and Fuyu are the four seasons in Japanese. If you noticed, most of the royalty relate to one of the seasons, 'Aki'teru, 'Haru'hisa and 'Natsu'ki!!
> 
> I am very honored and I'm also very sorry for scarring your eyes with my novice writing ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ. It would mean a lot to me if you could leave behind a comment about your thoughts about it. This fic would probably turn into a hulking behemoth if I were to continue with it so I'd like to gauge the general response if I fleshed it out!!


	2. Crash and Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg!!!! im so humbled by all the positive responses i had received for my previous chapter. all of you are so sweet ahhhhhh to be honest, i didn't even expect this to garner half the kudos or comments it had actually gotten. i love all of you so much so i finally got off my lazy ass and finished up chapter 2!!!! i hope you enjoy it 'w'

_If you were merely able to sing,_

_Would the darkness be dispelled?_

_Your life has been left up to a dream_

_Rotten at the core._

_季節は次々死んで行く_ _by amazarashi_

__  
  
**\- CHAPTER 2: CRASH AND BURN –**

“But Tsukki… you can’t avoid your responsibilities forever,” Yamaguchi said, looking at Kei with a touch of concern before he turned back to continue unsaddling his horse. The stallion protested, its black coat shone with a fine sheen of sweat under the blistering late-afternoon sun, torpid from an exhausting ride.

Kei leaned against the wooden beam, his own horse, a cream-coloured gelding, already stabled and accounted for. Peeling off his riding gloves, he simply regarded Yamaguchi with an uncaring lift of golden brows.

Confronted with a lack of answer, Yamaguchi decided to continue. “I believe Regent Katashi’s insistence is meant for your good.” Yamaguchi petted around his horse’s withers and upon feeling its tense muscles relax under his touch, he started applying a slight pressure to areas around its eyes and over its forehead. He smiled when he saw that the horse’s eyelids began to droop—Ace always responded well to massages.

Kei rolled his eyes and let out a derisive snort. “ _For my good?_ And you would know what’s for my good wouldn’t you, Tadashi?”

“That’s not what I meant and you knew it.”

Narrowing his eyes into dangerous slits, Kei retorted, all ice and deceptively saccharine, “Really? With you acting like my nanny as of late, I beg to differ.”  
  
Yamaguchi threw up his hands in exasperation. “I’m advising you as a long-time _friend_ , Tsukki.” Kei flinches at that, though he quickly recovered and tried his best to hide it. Yamaguchi’s honest words left an eerie, ringing silence hanging in the air between the two of them.

The silence deepened into an uncomfortable stalemate in which they both avoided looking at each other, it as if the air was suddenly full of invisible strings, stretched taut like bowstrings readied for fire. The atmosphere thrummed with the endless possibilities of this situation turning for the worse. Ace sensed the building tension and whinnied in distress, nuzzling his face into Yamaguchi’s chest. Yamaguchi sighed, and then very gently, he placed his hand on Kei’s shoulder. “Akiteru wouldn’t want to see you like this either.”

Kei immediately stiffened, and his eyes grew sharp like broken glass. _Bad call._ Yamaguchi thinks he might have just stepped onto a landmine. “Akiteru?” he snapped, flinging his gloves onto the wooden ground with a loud thwack, “How _dare_ you bring in my brother when you have none, not a _single_ kin, to even relate?” His voice echoed through the stables and Yamaguchi felt his shame magnify and peak with each haunting repeat of Kei’s words.

Yamaguchi wondered whether this was how death by a thousand cuts feels like.

It pierced him deep, because Kei always knew where to stick the knife where it hurt most, venom-coated, always brutally vicious. Kei’s fingers were twisted in a death’s grip around Yamaguchi’s outstretched arm and he gave it a disdainful sneer, as if the very idea of Yamaguchi touching him right now was downright offensive. Then, he wrenched it off of his shoulder.  

“Sorry…” It was the only word Yamaguchi could shakily force out of his throat. He felt suffocated, his senses were going on overdrive, set ablaze in pure humiliation. He lowered his head, unable to continue looking at the prince slicing open cuts into his skin with his frigid glare, all serrated-edges and devoid of any note of sympathy.

A sardonic smirk suffused over Kei’s face. “If only everything was that simple.” He proceeded to storm out of the stables; Yamaguchi winced when the doors slammed shut, the loud boom sending all the stabled horses into panicked frenzy.

Yamaguchi nursed his abused arm, ugly splotches of purple and blue had already blossomed over the area Kei just gripped and he mentally berated himself for being so careless with his tongue. How could he ever forget how debilitated Kei had been when Akiteru passed?

Turning to Ace, Yamaguchi dragged his hand over his face in an unconscious gesture of weariness, and looked at his slightly damp hands. He didn’t realize he had teared up during his heated confrontation with Kei. The stallion nudges his hand lightly and Yamaguchi perked up in surprise. He let out a soft laugh at Ace’s affection but it soon died down when he looked around, and all he could focus on was Kei’s riding gloves, coldly abandoned in blind rage. It seemed to be mocking him for being such a useless _friend_.

“I’m sorry Ace,” Yamaguchi whispered in a soft voice, sounding like he was scattered into a million pieces, broken. Choked by the ache in his heart, he thought he might as well had been. His arms encircled around Ace’s thick, sinewy neck and he breathed in Ace’s scent deeply—the familiar smell of wood chips, hay infused with the lingering tinge of sweat lulled him into a calmer state. “All of us will be okay, won’t we?”

 

* * *

 

 

Kei headed straight back to the palace compounds, seeing that it was unlikely Yamaguchi would be emerging from the stables anytime soon. Besides, Kei wasn’t particularly keen on seeing him so quickly after their spat.

Long, twisting shadows casted by the crowning sun were his only company as he continued to trudge forward mindlessly. The latticed patterns carved onto the marble archways standing tall above him lent gleaming, golden diamonds onto nearby walls and tiles.

In a distance, Kei noticed two patrolling guards swaggering down the open hallway in his direction, their hands dangled lazily at their sides, slacked faces alit with indolent grins as they exchanged idle banter. Kei thought to himself, how they were ever going to react in time when a threat presented itself. One quick swipe across their necks and their heads will be rolling on the floor, completely unsuspecting of their own deaths.

The two men steadily approached Kei, and within moments, only a few feet away separated them from each other. It was only then did they notice Kei’s, _the prince’s_ , presence. They put a screeching halt to their animated conversation and straightened up with solemn expressions, hastily positioning their hands at their swords’ hilts to feign some semblance of professionality. They bowed, as per standard practice, and greeted, “Prince Kei.”

Lazy and untrained, like every one of Katashi’s men.

Kei didn’t feel the need to reserve his judgment, wasn’t even in the mood to. Never stopping in his steps, he scoffed at them, expression gilded with revulsion.

Other than that, they passed each other without incidence. Once the guards thought that Kei was out of earshot, one of them whistled and muttered conspiratorially, incredulity heavy in his voice, “Wow. What went up his ass and died?”

The other gave a noncommittal shrug, “Maybe all he needs is a good fuck.”

A deprecating shake of the head. "He probably freezes pussies inside-out his ice-cold dick.”

“Do you think he can get it up?” The snort of breath in response to that question had spoken volumes for an answer.

“He’s alone today too, where did that ugly mutt of a follower go?”

“The most likely case would be that he got tired of having to deal with him, who wouldn’t?”

Combers of raucous laughter rolled aggrandizing from archway to archway. Kei felt his anger spike, any other day and he would have had a good mind to disregard their slights. Regent Katashi's men were notorious for their distaste towards Kei and had absolutely no reservations to display them. After years of dealing with them, Kei had already developed an immunity to their crude remarks. 

Retaliation only fed their egos, Kei knew that. He knew that. But with the residual irritation from his previous fight with Yamaguchi still coursing through his veins—what their words only did were to fan air to dying embers.

Turning on his heel, Kei marched towards them. “Care to repeat what you just said?” He asked in a conversational tone, but his face quickly betrayed him—it was akin to staring face-to-face with a solid sheet of glacier.

“Well?” Kei asked as he checked his nails uncaringly, ignoring the shell-shocked stares he was receiving. “You two seem awfully quiet for the racket you were stirring up earlier.”

They never expected the blonde prince to hear them, much less rise to provocation. A few moments passed before the burlier one of them regained his bearings first. Cocking a brow in silent challenge, he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Nothing an esteemed prince like you should concern yourself with.”

“Oh? Try me,” Kei said, taking up an insouciant stance, sharp ice clouding over his brown eyes. His tone was almost casual, whimsical even, but the slight lowering of his eyelids at the end of his words implied otherwise.

“If you must know…” The man took a bold step forward into Kei’s space despite effort from his much lankier-built partner to hold him back. It was obvious that every muscle in his body was straining to square off with Kei, consequences be damned. It was about time someone put this little milksop in his rightful place. Regent Katashi would approve of his actions.

“Sounds like an interesting conversation here,” said a voice from behind them.

Kei turned around, brows darkening at the sight of the two newcomers, well, one of them in particular. White-faced, the guards immediately lowered their heads.  
  
“Would Prince Kei like to enlighten Lord Toshi and me?”

“It was nothing, Regent Katashi,” Kei all but spat out in thinly-veiled hatred. Great. Now he had to deal with one more imbecile on top of those two dunces. Kei angled a smile at the two guards and it would be a gesture of amity—if only the look wasn’t so devilish and didn't scream so much of cold-blooded vengeance. “Well, not something an esteemed regent like you should concern yourself with, am I right lads?”

The guards sputtered indignantly, mind reeling backwards at Kei’s audacity, not at all expecting him to retaliate by using their words against them. It was becoming abundantly clear that they were had a lot wrongly preconceived notions about Kei.

“I see.” Regent Katashi frowned, evidently not pleased with such an aloof answer. He was a physically impressive man well into his middle-age, and even though the sunlight managed to paint Kei’s naturally fair complexion into an almost deathly pale pallor; Regent Katashi, in contrast, seemed to look invigorated, robust with the strong presence of a commander who inspired reverence in his followers.

The contours of his face were sharply carved, not a hint of gentleness. Aquiline-nosed, his hair was raven-black, slicked back in a clean-cut fashion and his eyes were rich wine-red—the colour of dried blood smudged against the ground, left to rot with the bodies of the countless innocents he had trampled over.

 _Rotten, just like his personality,_ Kei mused idly.

Regent Katashi looked at the two guards up and down before turning to fix Kei with a hard glare.

Kei knew what that look meant. It was a warning asking him to behave, and it probably having something to do with the company he had brought along.

“No matter, Prince Kei, I’ve been planning for you to meet Lord Toshi from the Ono family of merchants.” Regent Katashi paused for a short moment to gesture Lord Toshi to step forward. One incisive look at him and it was enough for Kei to deduce that he’s the usual kind of degenerate who had no compunctions to make a killing through unethical means—probably didn’t even mind _killing._ It was the kind Regent Katashi went through great means to maintain good relations with. Birds of a feather usually flocked together after all. 

Face contorted into an overly obsequious smile, Lord Toshi extended a hand for Kei to shake. It didn't have a single callus in sight, the very indication of someone who only handled decadent sweetmeats and delicacies in their entire lives. Give him a sword and he would flounder like an infant.

“Prince Kei, it’s an honour.” There’s an appreciative lilt in the way he said Kei’s name that only served to send shudders of distaste ricocheting down the prince's spine.

Kei returned the handshake firmly despite every fibre of his being protesting against initiating any contact with the slime. Following up, he flashed an impeccable smile, the very image of a handsome, golden prince, eyes crinkled and corners of the mouth slightly quirked, painting-perfect. Practiced for countless times for it to be executed mechanically with cutting precision. It would not be in his own interest to eliminate a possible ally in the running just because he botched up first impressions.

“Now, enough with the formalities. We’re all comrades here." Regent Katashi clapped his hands together, a sharp sound that whistled down the empty hallway. “I’m sure Prince Kei here wouldn’t mind joining us for a pleasant talk at my library since today’s agenda includes discussing matters that are rather pertinent to your future.” He levelled a cool glance at Kei, as if daring him to object. Kei stared back with a slightly raised chin, an imperceptible movement that would slip anyone’s notice unless they knew what they were looking for. It was impudent, bordering on treasonous.

“It would be my utmost pleasure.”

The power struggle never ended.

 

* * *

  


Pieces were taken with flourishes, white and ebony chess pieces tapped rhythmically on the chessboard. Reckless moves were followed by sudden sighs of realisation. Both players had their playstyles constructed upon utilizing the most out of pawn pieces. But whereas Regent Katashi was swift, ruthless and boasted an immense repertoire of movements which allowed him to figure out the opponent’s main tactics—see them coming and return it twofold; Lord Toshi was weak-willed and often faltered at the slightest sign of pressure, blundering his pieces over the most amateur of mistakes.

Currently, Lord Toshi’s major pieces were almost decimated, removed from the board one at a time until he only had his king and a handful poorly-placed pawns to face off against Regent Katashi’s full rank of knights, bishops, queen and rooks.

There were still a few moves left, though it was hardly necessary for them to be executed. It was hardly an even match; Regent Katashi already had a checkmate under his belt since a while ago.

It was moments later until a decisive clunk of wood concluded the match.  

“How is it that you’re so impossibly good?” Lord Toshi complained.

“Practice makes perfect,” Regent Katashi simply replied, lips tugged in a small smile.

Kei listened in the conversation as he walked down the numerous aisles lined with imposing bookshelves, a wide arsenal of books meticulously shelved in alphabetical order, kept in top-notch condition, courtesy of the palace servants who dusted every corner of the palace like clockwork.

Any book he wanted, he had it at his disposal. There were several military warfare books written by successful war tacticians, thick and leather-bound—Kei even chanced upon a book authored by Ikkei—to sentimental garbage like poetry written by maudlin hopeless romantics, too pathetic surrender their love to futility. 

There was no need for him to sit down and join them, given how unfairly skewed the competition was, it would be as tedious as watching paint dry. Still, Kei ensured to keep himself within sight, lest he came off as ill-mannered.

“Would you like to play against Regent Katashi next?” Lord Toshi called over his shoulder as he scraped off the remaining chess pieces on the board with his arm and reorganized them. “I’m sure it’ll be an exciting match to witness.”

“I’d take you up on your offer if only Regent Katashi’s collection of books wasn’t so enticing.” Kei gave them a quick glance before he continued perusing the impossible rows of books, fingertips dancing lightly over them. Occasionally, he stopped to pick out an interesting specimen that caught his eye.

Lord Toshi gave an understanding nod, “It’s certainly quite impressive, isn’t it?"

The Regent joined Lord Toshi in reassembling the chess pieces. “But before we indulge ourselves far too much, let us start deliberating over more important matters, shall we?”

“Of course, it was a foolish lapse in my judgment to suggest we should continue with trivial pastimes.” Lord Toshi coughed in his hand sheepishly, cheeks aflame.

“I’m sure Lord Toshi meant no harm. Pastimes are what tames our insatiable wanderlust and makes our otherwise mundane lives more bearable, no?” Kei walked over with a book in hand, effortlessly graceful and dignified. The first drops of moonlight fell on his face perfectly, riveting the eye, unblemished and pure in outline: a classic, aristocratic nose and a smoothly chiselled jawline. He pulled over a nearby chair, plumply cushioned, and sat himself down.

Lord Toshi’s eyes brightened in approval. “Prince Kei understands.”

“Wanderlust, you say?” Regent Katashi placed down the last piece of chess piece, a black king. “Would your wanderlust finally convince you going to ride to Aureus and shoulder your responsibilities as a prince?”

_Move._

The golden-eyed composure was flawless. “I will when the right time comes."

“You’re nineteen now, Prince Kei, your brother rode out gallantly on his first mission just a month after his fifteen birthday. How much longer will you make others tolerate your caprices until you decide when the 'right' time is?”

“You don’t have to,” was Kei’s simple answer.

Lord Toshi wetted his lips and cleared his throat loudly, interjecting into the exchange before it escalated. “Now, now. I’m sure Prince Kei just wants to make sure he’s prepared in every sense before he sets out.” His alliance was doubtlessly clear in his words and Kei smirked inwardly.

The Regent fixed Lord Toshi with a pointed glare, and he immediately fell silent. He was, after all, present today to make a proposition that pivoted on Regent Katashi’s approval as well.

“This is not the end of discussion, Prince Kei,” Regent Katashi shot Kei a hard look, smouldering embers matched disinterested golden orbs. “However, I wouldn’t want to sour Lord Toshi’s visit with our personal _issues_. To rectify this, Lord Toshi would you like to enlighten Prince Kei as to the purpose of your visit?”

“I would be more than happy to,” Lord Toshi replied. “Pardon me for sounding presumptuous. But Prince Kei, you are not, by any chance, engaged in any courtship with a Lady, are you?”

“I’m not, as far as I know. I’m curious, how does my relationship availability factor into this discussion?”

Lord Toshi steepled his fingers, grey eyes taking on a calculative light, as if he was appraising Kei. “I’m here with a… proposition, Prince Kei. Of course, the choice is ultimately yours.”

Kei sketched a slight lift of a thin brow, “I’m all ears.”

“This might seem sudden—would you like to court my daughter, Ayame? She’s quite a fine lady, I assure you. The most beautiful flower out of the lot, impeccable manners and dainty features. You’ll make me eternally grateful as her father if you do, and I’m confident that you and Ayame would be match made in heaven.”

“Indeed. The Ono family has been one of the biggest contributors to Nocte’s merchant trade, and the courtship would definitely strengthen the economy. I’m sure the joining of the two families would please many.” Regent Katashi cut in as Lord Toshi nodded in approval.

And just like that, Lord Toshi and Regent Katashi managed to place the fragile relationship between Kei and the Ono family hanging over the edge of a rocky precipice. Rejecting this offer would mean social suicide, and conversely, accepting it would be no different from actual suicide, bound to a wife, married for no more than economic gain.

Kei heaved a dramatic sigh, “I would love to accept your offer, but with Regent Katashi so insistent in drafting me into border deployment, I’m afraid I wouldn’t have much time to devote to your daughter, who I’m sure, is a wonderful woman who doesn’t deserve any less.”

_Countermove._

The Regent’s eyes kindled, but he swallowed down the sharp knife of his rage. “Don’t jest with me. Weren’t you against the idea of it a while ago?”

“Perhaps old age is catching up to you.” Kei didn't bother trying to conceal the razor edge in his words. “I said I will once the _right_ time presented itself, didn’t I?”

“Perhaps time isn’t of your fortitude. Must I remind you that only an half an hour passed since you made that bold statement?” The Regent’s eyes were now glittering with anger, the muscles across his neck visibly knotted with each heavy inhale of breath.

“And I’m telling you that the right time has come.” Kei fingered impiously off his chair and stood up, embodying every definition of blasé, he picked at some imaginary lint on his shoulder. After deeming it pristine enough, he ambled towards the door, taking deliberately slow steps to chafe further at Regent Katashi’s mounting temper.

Creaking open the large mahogany doors, the looming shadows of them obscured half of his face, and at that moment, it made him look downright _wicked._ To end it off, he threw a final glance back, a triumphant grin arrowed at Regent Katashi, he gave the book he was carrying two quick rasps with his knuckles. "I’m borrowing this.”

The doors slammed shut.

_Checkmate._

 

* * *

 

 

Kei reposed on his reclining chair after luxuriating in a satisfying bath, swirling his goblet of red wine absentmindedly. Today was a day worth celebrating—it wasn’t often that Kei could gain an upper hand over Regent Katashi, and even if he had, it was always out of the prying, scrutinizing gaze of nobles. The man’s defence was heavily fortified in public company, even the sharpest wit and most caustic of insults could not penetrate through the thick walls.

And he managed to do it today single-handedly, in front of someone Regent Katashi wanted to pull in as an ally. His happy mood was slightly soured by his earlier fight with Yamaguchi, but a victory was a victory. The prince took a sip from his goblet, rolling the rich liquid with his tongue and revelling in the sweet acidity on his palate.

“Hey, is Nocte wine really as good as the rumours say they are?” A deep, bass voice whispered, warm breath tickling the shell of Kei’s ear. It had a strange cadence, as if it came from a foreign tongue, not used to the inflections and consonants of the Nocte language.

Kei dropped his glass, surprised. He spun around to face the intruder in his supposedly _private_ bed chambers. The first thing that struck Kei was the atrocious hair this person seemed to have, it was unkempt and wild, flattened fringe on one side and spiky on the other. Cunning, hooded eyes stared back at him, yellow flecked with glowing brown, glinting with mischief. The clothes he wore had a distinct cut not usual to Nocte, it tapered sharply at the waist to accentuate it; the colour combination was outlandish as well, stresses of red on sharp black.

_A Sol._

That explained the hint of exoticness, although feathered in a foreign accent, Kei has never heard a Solian speak his language with that kind of proficiency. He drew two cautious steps back.

“You don’t have to waste it just because you don’t want to share.” The man manoeuvred himself past Kei’s sofa, looking awfully at home for a burglar. Squatting himself down, he swiped his index finger lightly across the red puddle of wine and lapped it up with his tongue. “What do you know, it _does_ taste good, little princey. Mind giving me a bottle? I’m sure you have a personal cellar somewhere.”

The sheer insolence of this man. “Who _are_ you?” Kei roared, countenance drawn tight in anger.

“Why, aren’t you quick to cut to the chase? You should learn to partake in the pleasures of foreplay more.” The man bobbed a quick curtsy to Kei, the infuriating half-smile never leaving his lips. “Kuroo Tetsurou, King of Sol, at your service.”

Kei could shout for the guards stationed right outside his room right now, and throw this brazen man into the gallows. Though he was brilliant enough to infiltrate the heavily guarded palace, he was psychotic enough, in equal measure, to proclaim himself as the _King of Sol_ in Nocte. But a small, niggling sensation at the back Kei’s mind made him reserve his judgment—he supposed he can entertain this man for a while.

Lids fluttering into a half-mast, Kei asked, “King of Sol, was it? So tell me, why and how are you here?”

Kuroo sighed, “Why do you have so many questions?” Realizing that Kei wouldn’t budge, he perched himself casually against the edge of the chair Kei abandoned in favour of standing up and sighed. “I had my trusty Kenma bring me here by travelling on Nekomata. Despite a long line of Mágians before him, his Nekomata is by far, the most unique one. It has the ability to allow it and the riders to cloak themselves—basically it renders you invisible.”

Alarm flashed in the depths of Kei’s eyes, warning bells ringing in his ears. He wasn’t joking when he said he was Sol’s King. Intimate details about a Mágian’s familiar were usually divulged to the only person they served—their chosen King.

“That doesn’t answer the ‘why’ part.”

“Patience, little princey. I’m getting there, but I’m sure you should already have a faint inkling as to the reason why,” Kuroo said. “You’ve been killing my messengers, haven’t you?”

Kei hissed under his breath, nerves rankled.

“I suppose you already helped yourself to the letters they were bearing.” Kuroo’s face was suddenly terrible, crumpled with spuming anger, any traces of the playful amicability that belonged more on a court jester’s face were cleanly eradicated. “I don’t take lightly to people killing innocent men, _Tsukishima Kei_.”

“All Solian men are scum. Your paltry letters begging for an alliance won’t erase our long-standing history of feuds.” Each of Kei’s golden eyes housed a bottomless, ice-barbed ravine, itching for a body to impale. Preferably this impertinent man. Hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at his sides, it trembled slightly, trying to contain the slow pressurization of the white-hot anger that was corroding away the thin cord of restraint Kei had left.

“Why? Still bitter about having your dear brother, Akiteru, killed in the Nocte-Sol war?” Kuroo pushed himself off the lounger with a sturdy arm, walking to stand right in front of Kei, his words were calm and slow, but they rang with the snarling of a beast. “Grow up. It’s been four years.”

“Don’t you _dare_ mouth my brother’s name with your filthy mouth.” Kei spat, grabbing Kuroo's collar. “Are you so free that you can afford to be here? But I suppose I can’t expect a man born from bastardry on the throne to run a country properly.”

“Oh right. Because economic success and further establishment of trade routes to Caelum, something _your_ country can’t even do despite years of negotiation, spells of all the foreboding signs of Sol’s doom.” Kei swore he could almost see sparks flying out of Kuroo’s mouth. Lips curled downwards, Kuroo challenged Kei into a stare-down. Kei felt those smouldering eyes searing into his, digging deeper and deeper into his very thoughts.

“My existence should actually please you,” Kuroo continued, there was a hint of something like sympathy in his eyes, but it was gone in a flicker of candlelight, replaced with apocalyptic fire. “I’m a walking proof that a bastard child can lay claim to a throne— _yes,_ even you.”

Kei recoiled violently as if he was just slapped.

_How did he know?_

**_How did he know?_ **

Kei’s sword screeched as he unsheathed it from its scabbard, light stuttering from his blade. He poised the sharp edge dangerously close to Kuroo’s neck and applied slight pressure to his sword-hold, instantly drawing thin rivulets of blood. However, Kei's victory was short-lived when he realized he wasn’t the only one armed. Feeling something cold prick at his skin, he looked down. Angled below his ribcage was a dagger which Kei would appreciate the beautiful craftsmanship of—if only he wasn’t just a sharp thrust upwards away from death.

Then, as if right on cue, the doors to Kei’s room were flung open without warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> helloooooo!!! you lived through another chapter written by me!!!! 
> 
> tsukki is such a bully and he and kuroo gets off on a rocky start but!!!!! everything will be fine with our babies.... eventually.  
> also!!! some of you might be confused with how i use family names with some characters but first names with other.  
> the most odd one probably being kei. i don't call him tsukishima to avoid any confusion between akiteru/haruhisa/natsuki since they're all tsukishimas. and yamaguchi is referred to with his family name in narrative--but since kei is a prince, he bypasses the formalities of referring to people with their family names! and well kuroo is just more comfortable with using kenma. 
> 
> COMMENTS and kudos are always, always appreciated and they all make my day so tremendously much!!!!!! every single one of them means the world to me (○´∀｀○)


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